


A Warm Place

by Bofursunboundbraids



Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: First Kiss, M/M, gratuitous finger touching, wine drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-17
Updated: 2014-02-17
Packaged: 2018-01-12 19:53:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1197369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bofursunboundbraids/pseuds/Bofursunboundbraids
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A King is crowned and the world is saved. Now two friends consider the road that lies before them.</p><p>My offering for Gigolas Week<br/>(gigolasweek.tumbr.com)<br/>Day One: First Times</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Warm Place

A Warm Place

The day had been one of joyous celebration. The King of Gondor once more wore the crown and the White Tree bloomed. A people breathed air that no longer carried the stench of fear and the sun shone with no cloud to cast a shadow. And a tightly knit group of friends, who had been bound together by nothing but a common purpose, celebrated all that they had fought and suffered for. The Ranger, now King, raised a glass to them and they in return sent prayers for a long and peaceful rule. And songs were sung and tales told and this went on into the night.

"I'll hardly know what to do with myself, after all of these adventures we've had." Pippin yawned.

"I know what I want to do with myself..." Merry yawned even wider, stretching his arms above his head.

"What's that?" Pippin's sleepy eyes blinked.

"Exactly what you're about to do in any moment."

"Huh?"

"Sleep, Pip. Here," Merry stood and offered a hand to his cousin, "before you drift off and we leave you to sleep on the rug."

Pippin allowed himself to be pulled to his feet. "Frodo, you coming?"

Frodo nodded, his eyes never leaving the sweetest face he'd ever known. He smiled at Sam, whose own eyes betrayed his battle with sleep. "Come on," he said, his fingertips gently caressing the tops of his dearest, most beloved friend's fingers. Sam answered with a yawn of his own before getting to his feet. He pulled Frodo up, still concerned about how light Frodo was. It would be some time before he got his master back to a proper weight for a Baggins of Hobbiton. If the folks back home saw how thin and pale he was, it would be years before tongues stopped wagging and, anyway, it'll be bad enough already. Worse than when old Mr. Bilbo flew off into the wild after dwarves and treasure.

The four sleepy Hobbits bid the remaining two members of the company a good night. Legolas and Gimli stood and bowed and wished their companions a fine deep sleep and promised to meet for breakfast in the morning. There wouldn't be many more chances for the fellowship to be together, so any chance would be seized.

"More wine?" Legolas asked, a bottle of Dorwinion from his father's famed cellar in his hand.

Gimli pondered whether another glass of the heady vintage would be wise. He had lost feeling in his fingertips some time ago and his cheeks tingled, with the heat coming from the open hearth turning them a rosy red shade. "I must concede defeat, my friend. And I have absolutely no problem accepting this. You have most fairly bested this dwarf."

Legolas smiled, emptying what little remained into his glass. He took a draught, the crimson liquid tasting of berries and oak and warming him on its way down. After everything he and his fellows had been through, after all the battles, the fear, and the death, he felt, in that moment, happier than in any time he could recall. He leaned forward, a gay twinkle in his eyes. "So, mellon nîn, where shall we venture first? To the cool, quiet of old lady Fangorn or your bright glittering caves?"

Gimli pondered the light that danced in the elf's eyes. It seemed to come from a source deep within, perhaps its origin was a well-spring within Legolas' brave and noble soul. He leaned back in his chair. "I am eager to see those magnificent caves...caves! Leave it to men who count horses amongst their closest friends to call that wonder a cave!" Then Gimli laughed, full and heartily. After wiping away a tear brought on by his wine-blessed mirth, the dwarf once more met his friend's shining eyes. "Aye, the caves call to me, but if I had to visit a forest, even the least hospitable would be more agreeable in the Spring and Summer. Yes, I think we should first make for Fangorn."

Legolas' heart leapt with joy at his friend's words. "I promise you will see the forest as you have never seen it before. Trees, ancient and wise beyond our knowing...you will hear their voices. And won't that be a wonder!" Legolas leaned back in his chair, the idea that one of Aulë's children would be able to hear the voices that the First Born have taken for granted filled him with an emotion that nearly brought tears to his eyes.

Gimli picked up his pipe and packed the bowl with fresh leaf. "If anyone could get one of Durin's folk to start talking to trees, that you'd be the one to make this miracle happen, my dearest Legolas, would be of no surprise to me." He rose and moved towards a jar of tapers on the hearth in order to light his pipe. He stopped as a gentle pressure touched his arm. This pressure moved, sliding down his arm until slender fingertips brushed his own. He watched as those fingers and his became entwined.

"The Hobbits, Sam and Frodo," Gimli spoke, an uncomfortable knot in his throat making his words fight to get out, "did you see those lads? The tenderness between them..."

Legolas nodded, "Love sown in the most ruined earth and in the cruelest of climes can grow stronger and more everlasting than the most coddled of hothouse blooms."

Gimli tightened his hand around Legolas', "But it will not last forever," he said, his gravelly voice barely above a whisper. "Not everything has that privilege. Not even the tallest peak is spared the effects of time."

Legolas laid his other hand on Gimli's shoulder, the fire light lighting his eyes and reminding Gimli of the bright blue sky that had graced the crowning of Elessar. "There is naught that can withstand time." Legolas' voice nearly sang, "Even the world will one day be remade by the grace of Ilúvatar, but that is no reason that the tree and mountain can not stand together in the time that is given them."

Gimli laid his pipe down so he could smooth his thumb across the elf's porcelain cheek. Legolas leaned into this simple touch and soon a wide, callused hand cupped the side of his face and thick lips pressed his, the wiry bristles of Gimli's beard tickling his chin. He closed his eyes and remained still, allowing those lips to linger as long as it was their desire to do so. When they did part, he opened his eyes, and saw the face of his dearest friend and he knew his heart's twin beat within that broad chest. He ran his fingers through the dwarf's long, red mane. The golden beads that hung from tightly woven plaits clinked together. Gimli chuckled.

"The fire has grown too warm for you, my friend. Your cheek is flushed bright red. And I have had too much wine. I just imagined that the wildest longing of my heart became a reality. Oh the shame my father would heap upon me if he knew. The Shirefolk would hear his scorn all the way from Erebor." He picked up his pipe and turned to light it.

"And the fell creatures of the Mirkwood will flee before the wrath of Thranduil when he hears his Greenleaf has given his heart to one of the Naugrim." Legolas said with every ounce of earnest intent in his body.

Gimli froze, "Given his heart...even if only in friendship, this Khazâd accepts it with both hands.".

Legolas took those hands in his and placed soft, silent kisses in each palm. "You are fearless and honorable, but like all of your kindred you are stubborn. Only in _friendship_..." Legolas stood and, bending to meet Gimli's raised face, he bestowed his own kiss. No doubt could be now left as to the intent of the elf's heart. Silken lips and velvet tongue pulled away the veil and there, stretching out before them lay a bright, clear path that would only know their steps in tandem.

And with that, and not another word, the room was left, silent and empty. The fire burned low.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my offering for day one of Gigolas week. It has the distinction of being the first piece of fanfic I've posted in almost 10 years and my first in the Tolkien fandom.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed it.


End file.
